washes over me and I let out a sigh at the sound. It’s been months since I heard it. He sounds rougher, hoarser than he did the last time we spoke. Oddly, he also sounds a bit more vulnerable, too.
“Massimo,” I breathe.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” he says.
Clearing my throat, I try to come up with something to tell him. There’s so much and yet, I don’t think that he would find any of it remotely interesting.
“You too. Are you okay?”
He chuckles softly, but I know it’s not because he finds me humorous. “I’ll be okay, dolcezza.”
“You’re calling…” I point out, needlessly.
He hums then lets out a small snort. “I am. Do you think you can come see me on Saturday?”
“Of course,” I say without hesitation.
“Things are good with your money, you’re getting everything you need?”
Smiling, I look down at my feet, turning my back to Rosana, who is listening intently, but trying not to.
“It’s too much every month, I couldn’t spend it all even if I tried.”
He chuckles. “So, keep it for yourself, for whatever comes your way.”
“Rosana is living here now. I’m going to try to get custody of her. My aunt is fighting me pretty hard though,” I blurt out on a ramble.
“I know. We’ll talk about that when you come here, yeah?”
“Okay.”
“Pippa?”
“Yeah?”
There’s a moment of silence and I wait for him to say whatever it is he has to say. “Miss you.”
My breath hitches, but I doubt he hears it. He’s already hung up the phone. Tears fill my eyes and I can’t just wipe or shrug them away. They are right there. Hanging the phone up on the receiver, I let my breath out in a whoosh.
“Are you okay?”
Turning my head to look over my shoulder I give her a sad watery smile. “He told me that he misses me, that he wants me to visit on Saturday.”
“That’s promising,” she murmurs.
Nodding my head once, I completely turn around and take over finishing dinner. “It is.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “I can never be sure what Massimo will really want from me. He says things, then turns around and does something different. All I can do is wait here for him to allow me to see him. So far, in almost the six months he’s been locked away, I’d seen him once.”
Rosana doesn’t say anything. I finish making dinner in silence, our good moods both vanishing. After we eat, she heads up to her room and me to my own. Drawing a hot bath, I sink into the water and think about this man, my husband.
How can I still have any tender feelings for him at all? How can I want to impress him? Why? Am I that desperate?
I know the answers, but I avoid even thinking them. I want to pretend that this is all a dream or that even if it isn’t, the outcome is going to be so remarkably beautiful that it will be worth every second of pain that I’ve experienced so far.
One week later, I find myself sitting at that same little table, waiting for my husband to grace me with his presence. Today, I decided to wear my hair down and make my face up pretty and subtle.
I’m wearing a navy blue wrap dress that shows a little more cleavage than I’m used to, but not too much that they wouldn’t allow me inside.
On my feet, I’m wearing shimmering gold high heels. I feel beautiful, even if it’s just to talk with Massimo for an hour, I still want to feel attractive, not just for him but for myself too.
My breathing goes from calm and collected, to rough quick pants when I finally see him. He dips his head toward a guard and I watch his lips move as he speaks to him. The guard’s eyes shift over to me and I watch as his lips curve up into a small smile before he nods his head once.
Massimo turns to face me and my heart races with each step closer he takes toward me. I search his features to see if he’s as excited to see me as I am him, but his face is completely impassive.
“Pippa,” he murmurs as he sits in front of me.
He reaches out his hand and I slip my palm in his. “I want to kiss you, to taste all of you, but I can’t here,” he murmurs.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“You look good.”
“Thank you,” I say, the conversation feeling forced